The only glimpse of happiness for an Indian sibling like me. (PART 1)
The only glimpse of happiness for an Indian sibling like me.
(PART 1) autobiography stories

puntolunar *Socially Awkward Ambivert*
Autoplay OFF   •   a month ago
I have decided to write about my life. ( Not that I have accomplished shit like rocket science. I have a really weird life. Writing about it will make me less crazy. yeah.) Just short incidents that have happened in my life. So, this is the first part of the first episode. SOML#1, Part 1. (SOML: Story of my life.)

The only glimpse of happiness for an Indian sibling like me. (PART 1)

After reading the title, you would expect something really big, in order to justify that only Indian siblings have that Glimpse of happiness. "For what?" You might ask. I'll tell you.

If you are anything like me, where everything you touch (though already broken) decides to completely demolish itself only when you have it in your hand,

the satisfaction when there is something broken in the house but this time, it's not your fault, that is what makes an Indian sibling like me happy.

I then feel like I have a purpose and am not entirely a failure. (Real optimistic. huh?)

But the thing is, whenever my Parents see something broken, they automatically come to the conclusion that I broke it.

I mean, just because I have done it like, 20 times, doesn't mean I'll do it again. (Right?) What is even more absurd is, they will accuse me even if I hadn't been there.

Like, ever!! (Talking about the gym equipment.)

Like, this one day the only Portrait in our Home of a 3D Rose, was found broken. And that hung in my Parent's room, where I did not dare to go.

(I'll just quickly imply that I am not an art fan before we move on. Thanks:))

And after seeing the broken Portrait, what did my parents do? Of course, they pinned it on me! I was sleeping peacefully dreaming of getting a dream and both of them burst into my room.

They were so mad and in a hurry that I thought we were finally having the Zombie invasion I was hoping for and was thinking of what weapon to use to kill them. (The Zombies! Duh.)

After listening to them speak in broken words (Because they were shouting at each other the whole time): "Painting-Rose-3D-Broken", I finally did the math.

(Though I was slightly disappointed that there was no invasion! I am real weird like that.) And I did the thing that everybody does when accused of something.

I started going down the memory lane, thinking of all the mistakes I had done in a while, how well I had hidden it, and whether I had done something that included a Rose in it..........

Stories We Think You'll Love 💕

Get The App

App Store